


Fluffy Fenders Prompts - or Feel Good Short Stories

by HeroMaggie



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Fluffy prompts, M/M, Romance, Sweetness, established relationships - Freeform, pre-fenders - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-01
Updated: 2016-09-01
Packaged: 2018-08-12 09:53:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7930228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeroMaggie/pseuds/HeroMaggie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a small collection of fluffy prompts from Tumblr. All feature Fenders, all are fluffy, and all end up very feel-good!</p><p>Or - short stories to make you smile.</p><p>Chapter 1: Mm…your kid before five in the morning<br/>Chapter 2: Come on now, I think you’re being too harsh. He/she’s just a kid. Remember all of the stupid things we used to do when we were their age?<br/>Chapter 3: "I'll share the blankets with you." and "A thunderstorm is rolling through town and you’re scared of lightening/thunder so I’ll protect you."<br/>Chapter 4: "You're really soft. You smell nice. I'm cold. Come closer."<br/>Chapter 5: "My ex just invited me to their wedding and I need you to be my date so it doesn’t look like I’ve spent the last few years failing to get over them"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. "Mm…your kid before five in the morning."

The piercing wail of a baby cut through the early morning quiet. Anders tugged the blankets higher and pulled his pillow over his head. Next to him Fenris gave a mumble and shifted.

“Your child is awake…”

“Mine?” Anders burrowed further under the pillows. “Ours.”

“Yours. It is not even dawn. The child is yours when she wakes up this early.”

There was a deep sigh from under the covers. “Is this because I made you get up for that late night diaper change?”

“It was disgusting. Filthy. Who fed her last?” Fenris nudged Anders.

“Hawke was babysitting her. No telling what she ate. I’m getting up, blasted elf. I’m up. See?” Anders had emerged from under the covers. He scratched at his bed-mussed hair and slid from the bed, reaching out for the sleep shirt he kept hanging off the headboard. He tugged the shirt on as he stumbled across the room and towards the door.

The wailing had devolved into harsh sobbing by the time he reached the nursery next door. A little girl, red hair sticking straight up and elven ears pressed tight to her head, sat in the middle of a crib and cried. She saw Anders and held out her arms.

“Oh sweetheart. What is it?” Anders bent over the crib and picked her up. She immediately pressed into his hug and sniffled. “You don’t need a change. Are you hungry? Gums hurt? Let me see you.”

Anders walked across the room to the battered rocker and sat down. The little girl nestled against his chest and hiccuped. As he rubbed her back, he sent tendrils of healing magic through her. She relaxed further and cooed.

“You’re lonely, hmm? My little butterfly.” Anders began to rock. “Sweet Emma, bad dream then?”

Emma gave a burbled response and clutched at his shirt. He sighed and settled into a slouch and began to rock. His daughter nestled closer and relaxed. He worried when she woke like this, tears and sobs in the early morning pulling him from sleep. She had been found in a slaver den - mother and father dead in the pen with her. Anders couldn’t turn her away, and neither could Fenris.

They brought her home, set up a nursery, and found themselves dedicated fathers. Emma was fast becoming the center of their world - a bit of shared love neither of them had thought they needed or wanted.

He rocked her and hummed a soft tune. Gradually, Emma drifted off to sleep. Anders kept humming, kept stroking her back, kept rocking her - anything to remind her that she was safe and loved.

***

Fenris woke up to the sun shining through the hole in the ceiling. He grunted and made a mental note to talk to Varric about fixing it and the rest of the holes. He had a daughter now, the mansion needed to be maintained. Which meant fixing it and finding out how to make their presence more legal.

He rolled over to wake Anders and realized he he was alone. Anders’ side of the bed was empty and cold. He sat up and slid from the bed, quickly walking across the room and to the hall.

Fear gripped him. What if Danarius had taken Anders? Taken Emma? The house was quiet - no sounds of baby laughter or singing or cooking. Fenris pushed open the door to the nursery, his heart pounding, and stopped.

Across the room in the rocking chair sat Anders. His head was nestled against the side of the chair. On his chest lay Emma, nuzzled against his neck and his big hands holding her. Both slept.

Fenris sagged and then smiled. There, in the small room, were both his hearts. The two people who had wormed their way into his life and made it richer, brighter, happier. Freer.

Fenris quietly closed the door and headed for the stairs. Anders deserved a hot cup of tea and some breakfast after waking up to take care of their daughter.

Up in the nursery, Anders shifted at the sound of the door closing. Against his chest, Emma let out a little coo. He smiled, settled back, allowed himself to drift into sleep.


	2. "Come on now, I think you’re being too harsh. He/she’s just a kid. Remember all of the stupid things we used to do when we were their age?"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The actual request was: for fenders, but instead of "when we were kids" more like "when we were in kirkwall together" a role model nobody should emulate ever

Hissing filled the air. The sound sputtered, a wet gargling splat, and then settled back into a steady hiss. Giggling and whispering could be heard just under the hissing - which was growing stronger and higher in pitch. A whine really - a hissing whine that grew into piercing whistle, like a kettle that had hit a full roiling boil.

The whistling whine exploded and the whispered giggles turned to sounds of awe and then screams of terror. Fenris took that has his cue to run into the room, brands alight and sword out. He expected to find a demon or void-fire. What he found was a room covered in green steaming goop and three wide-eyed teenagers.

“He did it.” All three of them were pointing at each other.

“Fasta vass! You will...what is...how did you...where is Anders?” Fenris settled on that last question with a hiss of his own. He knew his ears were flicking - he could feel his agitation making them flutter against his head. That, more than anything, had him growling.

Blasted mage with his blasted apprentices and his blasted ear kinks...Fenris turned and punched a green-ooze covered wall. The ooze slid over his hand, sizzled, and then dripped off. He let out a louder growl and shook his hand. His skin turned green.

Behind him came a flurry of noise and then a bark of laughter. Anders snorted into his hand as he walked into the room. He looked at the three terrified teenagers and lost it. He bent over at the waist and laughed so hard he cried.

“You...you idiots. I told you not to touch my book.”

“He did it!” The teenagers tried again. 

“You all did it.” Fenris growled. “And now you will be punished.”

“Oh stop. This is punishment enough. This is, and the clean-up job. That potion sticks something fierce once it dries and it turns skin green.”

“I know.” Fenris held out his hand.

“Oh. Fenris. You didn’t...you touched it?”

“He punched the wall, Ser Anders.”

Anders turned at the voice and frowned. “Wilhelm, what did I tell you about Serring me?”

“That you’d make me clean out the cat litter boxes for a week. I’m sorry, Anders. Habit.”

“Quite. Well then. Now that you all have established that you can follow written directions, but not spoken orders. I banish you to the cleaning closet to find rags and soap. Go on with you.”

“Mage…” Fenris growled.

“Ooo. Somebody is miffed. It’s alright, Fenris. It’s bound to happen with the apprentices. They get big britches. It’s why I left out that potion recipe. It has no actual use and is non-toxic.”

“Then...why is it even a potion recipe?”

Anders grinned. “For this purpose. And because it uses cheap, easy-to-find ingredients. Plus, if you get it wrong it releases this smell like a mabari fart. So it’s good practice to learn potion making.”

“And they only have to clean up after this...this...mess?” Fenris waved his arms around the tattered room.

Circular, built of old stone, and with one wall comprised of a rickety window overlooking the snow-capped mountains, the room was one of the sturdiest and isolated rooms in Skyhold. A perfect location for young mages to practice spells or potions. Anders shrugged as he watched a corner of the worktable turn grass-green. 

“The room won’t suffer. The rocks don’t care if their green, and neither do the tables.”

“But...they…”

“Look Fenris. This is just part of growing up. We did so much worse as pranks in Kirkwall...remember all the times we banded together to tease Hawke or Izzy?”

Fenris grumbled, but a small smile was growing on his face. “I admit, tradingout all of Isabela’s gold jewelry for foil-covered copper had been funny. How long was her neck green?”

“Two months. And she whined the whole time. Remember when Varric traded out Hawke’s wardrobe for just torn trousers and ripped shirts?”

“That man didn’t even care,” Fenris scoffed. “He wore those trousers proudly. What about when you set off that stink bomb in the Viscount’s Keep.”

“That wasn’t me.” Anders shook his head. “What?”

“They had to clear out the Keep, the smell was so bad. I had thought…”

Anders covered his mouth to keep back the laughter. “No. Andraste’s ass, that’s beautiful. When was this?”

“After the expedition. Hawke was having problems getting his mansion back...are you sure…”

“Wait. I remember Varric coming by to ask me about a bug potion. Something that would clear out pests. I thought for the Hanged Man. That...little...sneak!”

Fenris grinned. “He’s down in the main hall, regaling the Orlesians with stories.”

“Is he now. How many of you thought I did the prank?”

“All of us.” 

Anders pursed his lips. A look at the work table showed one vial of green liquid that hadn’t gone off. The liquid bubbled sedately in the glass. Anders grinned. 

“I think I know what to do. And when we’re done, the boys can clean up that room too.”

“Anders...seriously...what will Justice think?” Fenris asked, even though he didn’t stop Anders.

“A learning experience,” Anders said while grinning. “Now come on. While he’s busy.” Fenris rolled his eyes and followed Anders. They passed the three apprentices, all armed with mops, rags, and buckets of soapy water. The boys watched in wide-eyed amazement as their teacher and his lover whispered and laughed - a vial of bubbling green liquid clutched in one of Anders’ hands.


	3. "I'll share the blankets with you." and "A thunderstorm is rolling through town and you’re scared of lightening/thunder so I’ll protect you."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Friendship Handers and Fenders - both featuring cat!Anders

_**Part 1** _

  
The Wounded Coast wasn’t quite what Anders had been expecting. Fenris had told him that it was pitted with caves and hideaways filled with spiders, slavers, rabid dogs, and Tal-Vashoth. Anders hadn’t been able to picture that much activity on a stretch of coastline that sat so close to a city.

He also hadn’t been expecting the large amount of herbs growing wild in clumps. All the elfroot was making him dizzy with excitement. He could brew so many potions, make so many salves. And it wouldn’t cost him a dime for the most expensive ingredient - fresh elfroot.

Unfortunately, the trip outside of Kirkwall wasn’t for herbs. It was to subdue a particularly nasty group of bandits. Fenris was supposed to be there, but at the last minute got hired by the guard to take out some slavers that had taken up residence in the sewers.

This meant Anders was without his main support when the bandits attacked. And no matter how much work Fenris had done with him, Anders had panicked at the first yell. Instead of a mage flinging spells and healing, the group had a scared cat hiding under a bush.

Sitting in camp that evening, Anders was mortified by what he saw as an attack of cowardice. Slumped on his blanket, he watched the fire crackle. Around him, the group bustled to put up tents and prepare dinner. Anders finally took over dinner prep and tried to not feel ashamed of himself.

“You know, you don’t need to look so morose.” Hawke sat next to him and patted his leg.

“I completely freaked out and turned into a cat. How can you all even think to bring me again? What will Fenris say?” Anders put down the spoon he was stirring dinner with to cover his face.

“Oh Sweething. Do you think we all haven’t been in your shoes? I only wish I could have turned into a cat in my first fight.” Isabela sat on his other side.

“I zapped Hawke with lightning in our first fight against skeletons.” Merrill sat on the other side of the fire.

“Kitten, you still zap Hawke with lightning.”

“I don’t mean to. I get confused.”

Anders laughed into his hands. He felt a hand pat his shoulder before Varric walked around the group to sit next to Merrill. “Face it Blondie, we aren’t going to let you wallow. You did good just coming out with us. You’ll get there.”

Anders nodded and picked back up the spoon. Next to him, Hawke shifted and laid her head on his shoulder. “Missing Fenris?”

“There is a distinct lack of grumbling.” Anders smiled at the fire. “I do. I thought...I think, it would have been easier if he’d been here.”

“Want to share my blankets tonight? I know you sleep in cat form.”

“And Barkspawn won’t care?” From near the tents came a soft huff followed by a boof.

Hawke chuckled. “Naw. Though you might wake up with Barkspawn sleeping next to you.”

“Yeah. I think...I think it would help me sleep. Never really slept outside. All the stars are beautiful.”

“Freedom is beautiful,” Hawke murmured against his shoulder.

Anders smiled and looked across the fire and Merrill and Varric and then up into the brilliantly lit night sky. “Yeah Hawke...yeah it is…”

 

_**Part 2** _

 

It was late in the evening when Anders started to make his way from Darktown to the mansion. It had been a long day of healing, but satisfying in way that put a slight bounce in his step. Watching wounds heal and easing pain made Anders happy in a way that simply existing in the Circle hadn’t. There was something that just felt right about using his gift of magic to make other people’s lives better.

Running the clinic always made the Chant’s line “magic exists to serve man” run through his head. As he doled out potions, smeared on salves, wrapped cuts, and healed diseases and wounds, he felt like he was doing the Maker’s work. He felt like this was what magic had been meant to be used for.

His thoughts were interrupted by a rumble of thunder. He looked up at the dark sky and saw a flash of lightning. His heart leapt into his throat and he took off running for Fenris’ mansion.

Fenris was upstairs working through a page of exercises Anders had written out for him. The thunder had him looking out the window and frowning, wondering where Anders was. A jagged bolt of lightning lit the sky. Another rumble of thunder filled the air and then the storm burst.

The sound of the driving rain almost drowned out the sound of the front door slamming shut. Stomping sounded up the stairs and then the bedroom door was flung open. Anders came racing through the door. He dropped his staff and turned into a cat. Another bolt of lightning lit the sky as Anders dove under the bed.

“Anders?”

From under the bed came a pitiful meow. Fenris sighed and placed his quill down. He moved to the bed and then got down on all fours to peer at Anders. Anders was pressed against the far wall and shaking. Thunder rumbled overhead and Anders flattened himself to the floor.

“Come out.”

Anders covered his face with his paws and gave a little wailing meow.

“I will protect you. Come on. You don’t wish to sleep under the bed.” Fenris held out his hand as he spoke and wiggled his fingers.

This wasn’t the first time he’d had to coax Anders out from under furniture. The sound of armor in the streets, the Chantry bells, Hawke banging on the front door, or a fight with Fenris had him changing to a cat and scurrying under furniture and huddling in corners.

Fenris stared at Anders and huffed. “Come. Now.”

Anders crawled forward and allowed himself to be dragged out from under the bed. The sight of lightning splitting the sky had him digging his claws into Fenris’ arm. Fenris simply moved him to the bed and tucked him under the blankets before undressing and changing into sleep clothes.

He blew out the lantern and candles and slid under the covers and gathered the shaking cat to him. Anders buried his face against Fenris’ chest and pawed at him. The sounds of rain hitting the window and thunder kept Anders stiff and fluffed up.

Finally, Fenris rolled to his side and curled up with Anders snuggled against his chest.

“It will be alright, Anders. It’s just a storm.”

Anders huffed. Fenris felt the familiar tingle of magic as Anders shifted. He was left holding a damp human instead of a cat.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Storms have always scared me. And in solitary…” Anders shuddered. “It would rain and the cell would flood a little and…”

Fenris frowned and pulled Anders closer. “You do not need to explain.”

“Did I hurt you when I scratched you?”

“No more than when we play. It will be fine.”

Another bolt of lightning lit the sky. Anders tensed and then relaxed. Fenris brushed his hair back and rubbed the back of his neck.

“You should change into your sleep clothes. You’re damp.”

Anders gave another huff. “And then?”

“And then you will return to bed and I will hold you.”

“Till the storm passes?”

“All night, Anders. Now go change.”

Anders smiled at that and slipped from the bed to find his sleep clothes and change. He hung his damp clothes near the fire, closed the bedroom door, and then returned to the bed. True to his word, Fenris gathered him up into a cuddle and held him.

Outside, the storm raged - a loud tumult of wind and rain, lightning and thunder. But inside the mansion, Anders slowly fell asleep listening to Fenris’ heart beat a slow, steady rhythm under his ear.


	4. "You're really soft. You smell nice. I'm cold. Come closer."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The always popular "Stuck in a cave" trope.
> 
> Seriously - very popular trope for a reason!

It was a fact of life in Kirkwall that the Viscount was wishy-washy, Meredith was nuts, bandits lived in the hills, and Hawke loved to go traipsing out to kill them. No matter the weather, the time of day, the day of the week, or the general willingness of his friends - Hawke would volunteer to go out to the Wounded Coast take care of bandits or slavers or rabid mabari, angry Tal-Vashoth, blood mages, or that rampaging pack of nugs that bit three dignitaries and scared off the city guard.

So when Anders found himself sitting in cave with one incredibly unhappy and glowing elf, he figured it was just another Tuesday and to at least thank the Maker that they were in this cave and not...say...with Hawke. Who had gone chasing after three bandits with mabaris because Hawke was Hawke. 

Merrill had gone with Hawke because Merrill was Merrill. Anders figured they would either catch the bandits, kill them and the rabid mabaris, and then find their own cave or give up and head back to Kirkwall. Either way, the snow was coming down thick enough to limit sight and the wind was frigid and he and Fenris were stuck in the cave till morning. 

The cave was one of the smaller ones - a single concave room that boasted an old fire pit, some old barrels, one skeleton, and some moldy looking furs. Fenris was poking the furs with his sword while grumbling about mabaris, snow, and the hazards of going out with Hawke when inclement weather was on the horizon.

“We should get a fire going. We’ll be here all night at the very least.” Anders stood and moved back to the barrels to see if they could be broken down. He opened one and sighed. 

“What? Is it not usable?” Fenris moved to stand with Anders. He looked down into the barrel and groaned.

It held two pairs of torn trousers and an empty bottle. Anders shook his head and pulled out the trousers. “They’ll make a good firestarter. If you can break down the barrels, I’ll get the fire going.”

Fenris grunted and began to pry the barrels apart. While he was busy, Anders moved the short distance over to the furs. He picked up the top one and made a face. It was smelly and damp. Obviously, it had been exposed to open air for a long time. He held it up and then looked at the mouth of the cave. 

By the time Fenris finished with the barrels, Anders had managed to rig up the furs in front of the mouth of the cave using a rope and two jutting rocks. It sagged in the middle, but still blocked a chunk of the wind. With the furs hung and the fire going, the cave began to warm up.

Anders sat with his back to the wall and watched the flames dance. Next to him, Fenris grumbled and clutched at his arms.

“You alright?” Anders asked.

“No. I’m cold, I’m hungry, and I’m stuck in a cave for the night.”

“With a mage. I know. I’m just the lovely froth on this stout of a day.” Anders rested his head on the cave wall and rolled it to look at Fenris. “If I was Hawke…”

“I would have maimed you.” Fenris shivered and scooted closer to the fire. “I am not adverse to you being here. Better you than the witch or Hawke or Varric or Isabela…”

“Sebastian?”

“He might know how to kindle a fire and would have known to string up the furs.” 

Anders chuckled. “Ah. Well, I’m glad my limited survival skills put me on such a short list.”

Fenris grunted and tugged his knees up to his chest. Anders watched him lean down and grab his bare toes. Anders sighed. He was in pants and a coat and good solid boots. Fenris was barefoot and in his normal travel gear. Normally, walking and fighting would keep Fenris warm enough. Even with the fire and fur, the cave was chilly.

Anders scooted closer and leaned against Fenris’ side. Fenris started and then pressed back, rubbing against Anders arm like a cat begging for attention. Anders wrapped one arm around his shoulders and held his breath. When Fenris didn’t growl or yell, Anders squeezed him gently. 

“Venhedis, I am cold. Closer.” Fenris grumbled out the words.

Anders was tempted to ask him to repeat what he had just said. A look down at Fenris shivering body, however, kept him from asking. Instead, he moved to sit behind Fenris. He stretched out his legs and pulled Fenris back to rest against his chest.

“Take off your armor, Fenris.”

The request had Fenris stiffening. He turned to stare up at Anders, eyes wide. “Why?”

“Its metal, its pokey, and its uncomfortable. Please?”

Fenris gave a grumble, but unbuckled his armor. He shifted so that he could stack the pieces next to Anders. When he was down to his tunic and leggings, he shifted back and huddled against Anders’ chest. 

Anders slowly folded his legs up so that both of them were sitting cross-legged. Then he wrapped his coat around Fenris. He hesitated and then nuzzled his face against Fenris’ hair. He inhaled - the smell of sword oil, pine, and musk met his nose.

“You smell good.” The words were mumbled against Fenris’ hair. “And you’re so soft. Your hair, the skin on your hands…”

Fenris shifted and Anders shook himself. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know where that came from.”

“So I’m not soft and I don’t smell good?” The words were a quiet rumble. Fenris tilted his head back to see Anders.

“Ah...well...you are. And you do...but you wouldn’t...not me...I mean...maybe if Hawke…”

“Bah. Why would I wish for Hawke to say such things?”

“Because?” 

Fenris wrapped his hands around Anders’ wrists and squeezed. He settled back into the snuggle. “Anders, contrary to popular belief, I do not dislike you. Nor do I harbor ill will towards you. Occasionally, I desire to smack you. Not hard, just enough to gain your attention. However, as that would be cruel, I do not.”

Anders stared at the white hair in front of his face and said the only thing he could think of. “Huh.”

Fenris snorted. “If I did not wish you to hold me, I would have never asked for you to.”

“I thought you were cold.”

“I have suffered worse.”

Warmth filled Anders. He pulled Fenris as close as possible, hugging him tightly. Fenris let out a squawk of surprise before chuckling. The sound only the made the warmth flare hotter. Anders settled back against the cave wall and cuddled Fenris. A piece of wood burst and filled the air with sparks. Outside the snow fell thick and the wind howled. Inside the cave, Anders nuzzled Fenris’ hair as they whispered - taking the first steps towards something...more...


	5. My ex just invited me to their wedding and I need you to be my date so it doesn’t look like I’ve spent the last few years failing to get over them

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one is a bit angsty - with a fluffy ending!

Anders stared at the invitation. The vivid green cardstock was embellished with tiny white halla and soaring hawks. Curlicued print embossed in black proclaimed it to be an invitation to the happy nuptials of one Marian Hawke to Merrill Sabrae. Underneath the script was a simple handwritten note.

“Hawke wanted you invited. Please accept. I think it would make her happy. Merrill.”

Anders closed his eyes and dropped the invitation and the accompanying RSVP card on the kitchen table. He gave a groan and dropped his head to the table with a thunk and another, louder, groan.

A snort had him twisting his head to see his roommate standing in the doorway, a spoon of peanut butter just being put into his mouth. Fenris smirked and slowly pulled the spoon out of his mouth and quirked an eyebrow.

“What’s your deal? Cat decide not to hug you or something?”

Fenris was the ideal roommate until he opened his mouth. He was tidy, quiet, on time with his rent, and stayed out of Anders’ food. He was also against magic, loudly opinionated, and tended to show up right when Anders was having a bad day to heckle him.

He scrunched up his nose, and Fenris scooped up another spoonful of peanut butter and proceeded to lick it off the spoon. Fenris left the spoon in his mouth as he sauntered across the kitchen to pick up the invitation. He read it and then looked at Anders. He put the peanut butter down and pulled the spoon from his mouth.

“Is she not your ex-girlfriend?”

“Yeah.” Anders spoke more to the wood of the table and less to Fenris.

“The one who has prevented you from dating for the last four years?”

“Yeah. She said I was too needy and difficult to handle. She was out with Merrill the day I moved out of her house.”

“And she invited you to her wedding?” Fenris dropped the invitation. “You are not seriously thinking of going, are you?”

Anders exhaled and shrugged. He looked back up at Fenris. His hair, pure white and shaggily cut, was hanging in his green eyes. His normally lush mouth was pursed and his long, beautiful fingers were tapping on the table.

“Come with me.”

“Pardon?” Fenris skewered him with his gaze.

“As my date. Please? We’ve lived together so long that we know each other well. And you’re, well, you know…”

“No, I don’t.”

“Handsome. Well-spoken.”

Fenris snorted again. “You wish her to think you have stopped your pining?”

“I’ll do dishes for a month and clean the living room.”

Fenris hummed. “Throw in my laundry and it is done.”

“Ugh. Fine. And your laundry.”

Fenris grinned. “Excellent. I would have said yes if you had just asked with a please.”

“Bastard.” Anders grumbled out the word.

“And yet you still keep me around.” Fenris patted his shoulder, turned, and walked from the kitchen.

***

The day of the wedding was beautiful: warm and sunny with little wind. The ceremony and reception were being held at the Sundermount Nature Reserve, and Anders was thrilled that it wasn’t raining or windy. He had pulled out his good suit for the occasion - black and fitted with a solid yellow tie. Next to him, Fenris wore all black, including his tie and shirt. Anders had watched him walk from his bedroom and promptly bit his tongue.

The ceremony itself was a simple affair. Hawke wasn’t religious, at least that Anders could remember. Merrill, though, practiced the old elven ways. There was a handfasting and simple vows lead by the leader of the local clan of Dalish.

Both women glimmered in soft creamy silks. Merrill wore flowers in her dark hair and Hawke wore shimmering combs that kept her red hair from getting into her eyes. Both were barefoot and laughing, so in love that Anders unconsciously clutched at Fenris’ sleeve and found his hand covered and squeezed.

Fenris hadn’t dropped his hand since. The ceremony ended and the reception ramped up. Music played and couples danced under fairy lights and twirling wisps. Tables laden with food and drink lined one side of the open outdoor area while another space was set with tables and chairs.

Anders was staring at his hand being held by Fenris’...still held...his fingers light against the darker tones of Fenris’ skin...when there was a whoop and arms thrown around his neck.

“You made it! Wasn’t sure. Rumor had it that you were still, you know…”

“Hawke.” Anders turned to stare up into her vivid blue eyes. She was still gloriously beautiful. Achingly alive and vibrant with a wide smile that made the entire room light up. “Hi.”

“You’ve met my wife, right? My wife. That’s so...it’s so strange to say.”

Merrill waved. “We met once. While you two were still together...oh. I mean…”

Anders blinked at the firm squeeze around his hand. He turned to look at Fenris and found him glowering at Hawke. Anders cleared his throat. “Ah. This is Fenris. My date.”

“His lover.” Fenris bared his teeth in a smile. “I’ve heard all about you.”

Anders winced. Fenris had. Every down day, every moment of loneliness, every year on what would have been his anniversary - Fenris had watched Anders sink into drink and had been forced to listen to him whine about a woman who had fallen in love and moved on.

“Fenris. I didn’t expect you to have a date, Anders.”

“We live together. Our relationship is nobody’s business but ours. Unlike some, I know how to recognize when I have been given a gift.”

“It’s was a lovely wedding,” Anders said, desperation making his voice waiver. “I loved the flowers.”

“Oh! I picked them out special.” Merrill chirped. “Mar? Your brother is waving at us.”

“Go on over there, kitten. I’ll follow in a second.” Merrill gave another happy smile and skipped over to the family table.

Anders looked up at Hawke and frowned. “Well?”

“For what it’s worth. I’m sorry. I should have broken it off with you before I slept with her. Seeing you with somebody…”

“It’s been four years.”

“I’m...look...I’m glad you came. Couldn't have been easy. Varric’s been riding my ass for years over all this. So I’m sorry. And I hope you enjoy yourself.”

Anders watched as she turned and walked to Merrill. He glanced back at Fenris and drooped. “Well then...I guess…”

“Dance with me, Anders.”

“Pardon?”

Fenris squeezed his hand - the hand he hadn’t released yet. “Dance with me.”

“Why? This isn’t...you aren’t…”

Fenris huffed. “So blind. You are so very blind. And lucky that I am so patient. Dance with me so that I may kiss you like I have been wanting to for years now.”

“You...what?” Anders goggled at Fenris, his eyes nearly bulging when Fenris released his hand to stroke his cheek.

“I would not have stayed your roommate for so long if I hadn’t hoped for this. Now, dance with me. Please?”

For the first time in four years, Anders allowed somebody else to lead him to the dance floor. He stepped into the circle of somebody else’s arms and allowed them to pull him close and then down into a gentle, searching kiss.

Fenris hummed softly. “For the record, Hawke is wrong. You are not needy. Though you are a pain in the ass.”

Anders perked up. “Do you want…”

“Do not finish that question, Anders. We shall dance. And then...maybe...we shall leave.” Anders laughed and let Fenris twirl him around the dance floor. And then he let Fenris take him home.


End file.
